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Table of contents
TO THE READER.
OF SENECA’S WRITINGS.
SENECA’S LIFE AND DEATH.
SENECA OF BENEFITS.
CHAPTER I.OF BENEFITS IN GENERAL.
CHAPTER II.SEVERAL SORTS OF BENEFITS.
CHAPTER III.A SON MAY OBLIGE HIS FATHER, AND A SERVANT HIS MASTER.
CHAPTER IV.IT IS THE INTENTION, NOT THE MATTER, THAT MAKES THE BENEFIT.
CHAPTER V.THERE MUST BE JUDGMENT IN A BENEFIT, AS WELL AS MATTER AND INTENTION; AND ESPECIALLY IN THE CHOICE OF THE PERSON.
CHAPTER VI.THE MATTER OF OBLIGATIONS, WITH ITS CIRCUMSTANCES.
CHAPTER VII.THE MANNER OF OBLIGING.
CHAPTER VIII.THE DIFFERENCE AND VALUE OF BENEFITS.
CHAPTER IX.AN HONEST MAN CANNOT BE OUTDONE IN COURTESY.
CHAPTER X.THE QUESTION DISCUSSED, WHETHER OR NOT A MAN MAY GIVE OR RETURN A BENEFIT TO HIMSELF?
CHAPTER XI.HOW FAR ONE MAN MAY BE OBLIGED FOR A BENEFIT DONE TO ANOTHER.
CHAPTER XII.THE BENEFACTOR MUST HAVE NO BY-ENDS.
CHAPTER XIII.THERE ARE MANY CASES WHEREIN A MAN MAY BE MINDED OF A BENEFIT, BUT IT IS VERY RARELY TO BE CHALLENGED, AND NEVER TO BE UPBRAIDED.
CHAPTER XIV.HOW FAR TO OBLIGE OR REQUITE A WICKED MAN.
CHAPTER XV.A GENERAL VIEW OF THE PARTS AND DUTIES OF THE BENEFACTOR.
CHAPTER XVI.HOW THE RECEIVER OUGHT TO BEHAVE HIMSELF.
CHAPTER XVII.OF GRATITUDE.
CHAPTER XVIII.GRATITUDE MISTAKEN.
CHAPTER XIX.OF INGRATITUDE.
CHAPTER XX.THERE CAN BE NO LAW AGAINST INGRATITUDE.
SENECA OF A HAPPY LIFE.
CHAPTER I.OF A HAPPY LIFE, AND WHEREIN IT CONSISTS.
CHAPTER II.HUMAN HAPPINESS IS FOUNDED UPON WISDOM AND VIRTUE; AND FIRST, OF WISDOM.
CHAPTER III.THERE CAN BE NO HAPPINESS WITHOUT VIRTUE.
CHAPTER IV.PHILOSOPHY IS THE GUIDE OF LIFE.
CHAPTER V.THE FORCE OF PRECEPTS.
CHAPTER VI.NO FELICITY LIKE PEACE OF CONSCIENCE.
CHAPTER VII.A GOOD MAN CAN NEVER BE MISERABLE, NOR A WICKED MAN HAPPY.
CHAPTER VIII.THE DUE CONTEMPLATION OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE IS THE CERTAIN CURE OF ALL MISFORTUNES.
CHAPTER IX.OF LEVITY OF MIND, AND OTHER IMPEDIMENTS OF A HAPPY LIFE.
CHAPTER X.HE THAT SETS UP HIS REST UPON CONTINGENCIES SHALL NEVER BE QUIET.
CHAPTER XI.A SENSUAL LIFE IS A MISERABLE LIFE.
CHAPTER XII.AVARICE AND AMBITION ARE INSATIABLE AND RESTLESS.
CHAPTER XIII.HOPE AND FEAR ARE THE BANE OF HUMAN LIFE.
CHAPTER XIV.IT IS ACCORDING TO THE TRUE OR FALSE ESTIMATE OF THINGS THAT WE ARE HAPPY OR MISERABLE.
CHAPTER XV.THE BLESSINGS OF TEMPERANCE AND MODERATION.
CHAPTER XVI.CONSTANCY OF MIND GIVES A MAN REPUTATION, AND MAKES HIM HAPPY IN DESPITE OF ALL MISFORTUNE.
CHAPTER XVII.OUR HAPPINESS DEPENDS IN A GREAT MEASURE UPON THE CHOICE OF OUR COMPANY.
CHAPTER XVIII.THE BLESSINGS OF FRIENDSHIP.
CHAPTER XIX.HE THAT WOULD BE HAPPY MUST TAKE AN ACCOUNT OF HIS TIME.
CHAPTER XX.HAPPY IS THE MAN THAT MAY CHOOSE HIS OWN BUSINESS.
CHAPTER XXI.THE CONTEMPT OF DEATH MAKES ALL THE MISERIES OF LIFE EASY TO US.
CHAPTER XXII.CONSOLATIONS AGAINST DEATH, FROM THE PROVIDENCE AND THE NECESSITY OF IT.
CHAPTER XXIII.AGAINST IMMODERATE SORROW FOR THE DEATH OF FRIENDS.
CHAPTER XXIV.CONSOLATION AGAINST BANISHMENT AND BODILY PAIN.
CHAPTER XXV.POVERTY TO A WISE MAN IS RATHER A BLESSING THAN A MISFORTUNE.
SENECA OF ANGER.
CHAPTER I.ANGER DESCRIBED, IT IS AGAINST NATURE, AND ONLY TO BE FOUND IN MAN.
CHAPTER II.THE RISE OF ANGER.
CHAPTER III.ANGER MAY BE SUPPRESSED.
CHAPTER IV.IT IS A SHORT MADNESS, AND A DEFORMED VICE.
CHAPTER V.ANGER IS NEITHER WARRANTABLE NOR USEFUL.
CHAPTER VI.ANGER IN GENERAL, WITH THE DANGER AND EFFECTS OF IT.
CHAPTER VII.THE ORDINARY GROUNDS AND OCCASIONS OF ANGER.
CHAPTER VIII.ADVICE IN THE CASES OF CONTUMELY AND REVENGE.
CHAPTER IX.CAUTIONS AGAINST ANGER IN THE MATTER OF EDUCATION, CONVERSE, AND OTHER GENERAL RULES OF PREVENTING IT, BOTH IN OURSELVES AND OTHERS.
CHAPTER X.AGAINST RASH JUDGMENT.
CHAPTER XI.TAKE NOTHING ILL FROM ANOTHER MAN, UNTIL YOU HAVE MADE IT YOUR OWN CASE.
CHAPTER XII.OF CRUELTY.
SENECA OF CLEMENCY.
TO THE READER.
It
has been a long time my thought to turn Seneca into English; but
whether as a
translation or an
abstract, was the
question. A
translation, I
perceive, it must not be, at last, for several reasons. First, it
is
a thing already done to my hand, and of above sixty years’
standing; though with as little
credit, perhaps, to
the Author, as
satisfaction to the
Reader. Secondly, There is a great deal in him, that is wholly
foreign to my business: as his philosophical treatises of
Meteors,
Earthquakes, the
Original of Rivers,
several frivolous disputes betwixt the Epicureans and the Stoics,
etc., to say nothing of his frequent repetitions of the same thing
again in other words, (wherein he very handsomely excuses himself,
by
saying, “That he does but inculcate over and over the same counsels
to those that over and over commit the same faults.”)Thirdly, His
excellency consists rather in a rhapsody of divine and
extraordinary
hints and
notions, than in
any regulated method of discourse; so that to take him as he lies,
and so to go through with him, were utterly inconsistent with the
order and brevity which I propound; my principal design, being only
to digest, and commonplace his
Morals, in such
sort, that any man, upon occasion, may know where to find them. And
I
have kept myself so close to this proposition, that I have reduced
all his scattered Ethics to their
proper heads,
without any additions of my own, more than of absolute necessity
for
the tacking of them together. Some other man in my place would
perhaps make you twenty apologies for his want of skill and
address,
in governing this affair; but these are formal and pedantic
fooleries, as if any man that first takes himself for a coxcomb in
his own heart, would afterwards make himself one in print too.
This
Abstract, such as
it is, you are extremely welcome to; and I am sorry it is no
better,
both for your sakes and my own, for if it were written up to the
spirit of the original, it would be one of the most valuable
presents
that ever any private man bestowed upon the public; and this, too,
even in the judgment of both parties, as well Christian as Heathen,
of which in its due place.Next
to my choice of the
Author and of the
subject, together
with the manner of handling it, I have likewise had some regard, in
this publication, to the
timing of it, and
to the preference of this topic of
Benefits above all
others, for the groundwork of my
first essay. We are
fallen into an age of
vain philosophy (as
the holy apostle calls it) and so desperately overrun with Drolls
and
Sceptics, that there is hardly any thing so certain or so sacred,
that is not exposed to question and contempt, insomuch, that
betwixt
the hypocrite and the Atheist, the very foundations of religion and
good manners are shaken, and the two tables of the
Decalogue dashed to
pieces the one against the other; the laws of government are
subjected to the fancies of the vulgar; public authority to the
private passions and opinions of the people; and the supernatural
motions of grace confounded with the common dictates of nature. In
this state of corruption, who so fit as a good honest Christian
Pagan
for a moderator among Pagan Christians?To
pass now from the general scope of the whole work to the particular
argument of the first part of it, I pitched upon the theme
of
Benefits,
Gratitude, and
Ingratitude, to
begin withal, as an earnest of the rest, and a lecture expressly
calculated for the unthankfulness of these times; the foulest
undoubtedly, and the most execrable of all others, since the very
apostasy of the angels: nay, if I durst but suppose a possibility
of
mercy for those damned spirits, and that they might ever be taken
into favor again, my charity would hope even better for them than
we
have found from some of our revolters, and that they would so
behave
themselves as not to incur a second forfeiture. And to carry the
resemblance yet one point farther, they do both of them agree in an
implacable malice against those of their fellows that keep their
stations. But, alas! what could
Ingratitude do
without Hypocrisy,
the inseparable companion of it, and, in effect, the bolder and
blacker devil of the two? for Lucifer himself never had the face to
lift up his eyes to heaven, and talk to the Almighty at the
familiar
rate of our pretended patriots and zealots, and at the same time to
make him party to a cheat. It is not for nothing that the Holy
Ghost
has denounced so many woes, and redoubled so many cautions
against
hypocrites; plainly
intimating at once how dangerous a snare they are to mankind, and
no
less odious to God himself; which is sufficiently denoted in the
force of that dreadful expression,
And your portion shall be with hypocrites.
You will find in the holy scriptures (as I have formerly observed)
that God has given the grace of repentance to
persecutors,
idolaters,
murderers,
adulterers, etc.,
but I am mistaken if the whole Bible affords you any one instance
of
a converted
hypocrite.To
descend now from truth itself to our own experience have we not
seen,
even in our days, a most pious (and almost faultless) Prince
brought
to the scaffold by his own subjects? The most glorious constitution
upon the face of the earth, both ecclesiastical and civil, torn to
pieces and dissolved? The happiest people under the sun enslaved?
Our
temples sacrilegiously profaned, and a license given to all sorts
of
heresy and outrage? And by whom but by a race of
hypocrites? who had
nothing in their mouths all this while but
the purity of the gospel,
the honor of the king,
and the liberty of
the people,
assisted underhand with
defamatory papers,
which were levelled at the
king himself
through the sides of his most faithful
ministers. This
PROJECT succeeded so well against one government, that it is now
again set afoot against another; and by some of the very actors too
in that TRAGEDY, and after a most gracious pardon also, when
Providence had laid their necks and their fortunes at his majesty’s
feet. It is a wonderful thing that
libels and
libellers, the most
infamous of
practices and of
men; the most
unmanly sneaking methods
and instruments
of mischief;
the very bane of
human society, and
the plague
of all governments;
it is a wonderful thing (I say) that these engines and engineers
should ever find credit enough in the world to engage a party; but
it
would be still more wonderful if the
same trick should
pass twice upon the
same people, in the
same age, and from
the same
IMPOSTORS. This contemplation has carried me a little out of my
way,
but it has at length brought me to my text again, for there is in
the
bottom of it the highest opposition imaginable of
ingratitude and
obligation.The
reader will, in some measure, be able to judge by this taste what
he
is farther to expect; that is to say, as to the cast of my design,
and the simplicity of the style and dress; for that will still be
the
same, only accompanied with variety of matter. Whether it pleases
the
world or no, the care is taken; and yet I could wish that it might
be
as delightful to others upon the perusal, as it has been to me in
the
speculation. Next to the gospel itself, I do look upon it as the
most
sovereign remedy against the miseries of human nature: and I have
ever found it so, in all the injuries and distresses of an
unfortunate life. You may read more of him, if you please, in
the
Appendix, which I
have here subjoined to this Preface, concerning the authority of
his
writings, and the
circumstances of his
life; as I have
extracted them out of Lipsius.
OF SENECA’S WRITINGS.
It
appears that our author had among the ancients three professed
enemies. In the first place Caligula, who called his
writings,
sand without lime;
alluding to the starts of his fancy, and the incoherence of his
sentences. But Seneca was never the worse for the censure of a
person
that propounded even the suppressing of Homer himself; and of
casting
Virgil and Livy out of all
public libraries.
The next was Fabius, who taxes him for being too bold with the
eloquence of former times, and failing in that point himself; and
likewise for being too quaint and finical in his expressions; which
Tacitus imputes, in part to the freedom of his own particular
inclination, and partly to the humor of the times. He is also
charged
by Fabius as no profound philosopher; but with all this, he allows
him to be a man very studious and learned, of great wit and
invention, and well read in all sorts of literature; a severe
reprover of vice; most divinely sententious; and well worth the
reading, if it were only for his morals; adding, that if his
judgment
had been answerable to his wit, it had been much the more for his
reputation; but he wrote whatever came next; so that I would advise
the reader (says he) to distinguish where he
himself did not,
for there are many things in him, not only to be approved, but
admired; and it was great pity that he that could do what he would,
should not always make the best choice. His third adversary is
Agellius, who falls upon him for his style, and a kind of tinkling
in
his sentences, but yet commends him for his piety and good
counsels.
On the other side, Columela calls him
a man of excellent wit and learning;
Pliny, the prince of
erudition; Tacitus
gives him the character of
a wise man, and a fit tutor for a prince;
Dio reports him to have been
the greatest man of his age.Of
those pieces of his that are extant, we shall not need to give any
particular account: and of those that are lost, we cannot, any
farther than by lights to them from other authors, as we find them
cited much to his honor; and we may reasonably compute them to be
the
greater part of his works. That he wrote several
poems in his
banishment, may be gathered partly from himself, but more expressly
out of Tacitus, who says, “that he was reproached with his applying
himself to poetry, after he saw that Nero took pleasure in it, out
of
a design to curry favor.” St. Jerome refers to a discourse of his
concerning matrimony. Lactantius takes notice of his history, and
his
books of Moralities: St. Augustine quotes some passages of his out
of
a book of Superstition; some references we meet with to his books
of
Exhortations: Fabius makes mention of his Dialogues: and he himself
speaks of a treatise of his own concerning Earthquakes, which he
wrote in his youth, but the opinion of an epistolary correspondence
that he had with St. Paul, does not seem to have much color for
it.Some
few fragments, however, of those books of his that are wanting, are
yet preserved in the writings of other eminent authors, sufficient
to
show the world how great a treasure they have lost by the
excellency
of that little that is left.Seneca,
says Lactantius, that was the sharpest of all the Stoics, how great
a
veneration has he for the Almighty! as for instance, discoursing of
a
violent death; “Do you not understand?” says he, “the majesty
and the authority of your Judge; he is the supreme Governor of
heaven
and earth, and the God of all your gods; and it is upon him that
all
those powers depend which we worship for deities.” Moreover, in his
Exhortations, “This God,” says he, “when he laid the
foundations of the universe, and entered upon the greatest and the
best work in nature, in the ordering of the government of the
world,
though he was himself All in all, yet he substituted other
subordinate ministers, as the servants of his commands.” And how
many other things does this Heathen speak of God like one of
us!Which
the acute Seneca, says Lactantius again, saw in his Exhortations.
“We,” says he, “have our dependence elsewhere, and should look
up to that power, to which we are indebted for all that we can
pretend to that is good.”And
again, Seneca says very well in his Morals, “They worship the
images of the God,” says he, “kneel to them, and adore them, they
are hardly ever from them, either plying them with offerings or
sacrifices, and yet, after all this reverence to the image, they
have
no regard at all to the workman that made it.”Lactantius
again. “An invective,” says Seneca in his Exhortations, “is the
masterpiece of most of our philosophers; and if they fall upon the
subject of avarice,
lust,
ambition, they lash
out into such excess of bitterness, as if railing were a mark of
their profession. They make me think of gallipots in an
apothecary’s
shop, that have remedies without and poison within.”Lactantius
still. “He that would know all things, let him read Seneca; the
most lively describer of public vices and manners, and the smartest
reprehender of them.”And
again; as Seneca has it in the books of Moral Philosophy, “He is
the brave man, whose splendor and authority is the least part of
his
greatness, that can look death in the face without trouble or
surprise; who, if his body were to be broken upon the wheel, or
melted lead to be poured down his throat, would be less concerned
for
the pain itself, than for the dignity of bearing it.”Let
no man, says Lactantius, think himself the safer in his wickedness
for want of a witness; for God is omniscient, and to him nothing
can
be a secret. It is an admirable sentence that Seneca concludes his
Exhortations withal: “God,” says he, “is a great, (I know not
what), an incomprehensible Power; it is to him that we live, and to
him that we must approve ourselves. What does it avail us that our
consciences are hidden from men, when our souls lie open to God?”
What could a Christian have spoken more to the purpose in this case
than this divine Pagan? And in the beginning of the same work, says
Seneca, “What is it that we do? to what end is it to stand
contriving, and to hide ourselves? We are under a guard, and there
is
no escaping from our keeper. One man may be parted from another by
travel, death, sickness; but there is no dividing us from
ourselves.
It is to no purpose to creep into a corner where nobody shall see
us.
Ridiculous madness! Make it the case, that no mortal eye could find
us out, he that has a conscience gives evidence against
himself.”It
is truly and excellently spoken of Seneca, says Lactantius, once
again; “Consider,” says he “the majesty, the goodness, and the
venerable mercies of the Almighty; a friend that is always at hand.
What delight can it be to him the slaughter of innocent creatures
or
the worship of bloody sacrifices? Let us purge our minds, and lead
virtuous and honest lives. His pleasure lies not in the
magnificence
of temples made with stone, but in the pity and devotion of
consecrated hearts.”In
the book that Seneca wrote against Superstitions, treating of
images,
says St. Austin, he writes thus: “They represent the holy, the
immortal, and the inviolable gods in the basest matter, and without
life or motion; in the forms of men, beasts, fishes, some of mixed
bodies, and those figures they call deities, which, if they were
but
animated, would affright a man, and pass for monsters.” And then, a
little farther, treating of Natural Theology, after citing the
opinions of philosophers, he supposes an objection against himself:
“Somebody will perhaps ask me, would you have me then to believe
the heavens and the earth to be gods, and some of them above the
moon, and some below it? Shall I ever be brought to the opinion of
Plato, or of Strabo the Peripatetic? the one of which would have
God
to be without a body, and the other without a mind.” To which he
replies, “And do you give more credit then to the dreams of T.
Tatius, Romulus, Hostilius, who caused, among other deities, even
Fear and Paleness to be worshipped? the vilest of human affections;
the one being the motion of an affrighted mind, and the other not
so
much the disease as the color of a disordered body. Are these the
deities that you will rather put your faith in, and place in the
heavens?” And speaking afterward of their abominable customs, with
what liberty does he write! “One,” says he, “out of zeal, makes
himself an eunuch, another lances his arms; if this be the way
to
please their gods,
what should a man do if he had a mind to
anger them? or, if
this be the way to please them, they do certainly deserve not to be
worshipped at all. What a frenzy is this to imagine that the gods
can
be delighted with such cruelties, as even the worst of men would
make
a conscience to inflict! The most barbarous and notorious of
tyrants,
some of them have perhaps done it themselves, or ordered the
tearing
of men to pieces by others; but they never went so far as to
command
any man to torment himself. We have heard of those that have
suffered
castration to gratify the lust of their imperious masters, but
never
any man that was forced to act it upon himself. They murder
themselves in their very temples, and their prayers are offered up
in
blood. Whosoever shall but observe what they do, and what they
suffer, will find it so misbecoming an honest man, so unworthy of a
freeman, and so inconsistent with the action of a man in his wits,
that he must conclude them all to be mad, if it were not that there
are so many of them; for only their number is their justification
and
their protection.”When
he comes to reflect, says St. Augustine, upon those passages which
he
himself had seen in the Capitol, he censures them with liberty and
resolution; and no man will believe that such things would be done
unless in mockery or frenzy. What lamentation is there in the
Egyptian sacrifices for the loss of Osiris? and then what joy for
the
finding of him again? Which he makes himself sport with; for in
truth
it is all a fiction; and yet those people that neither lost any
thing
nor found any thing, must express their sorrows and their
rejoicings
to the highest degree. “But there is only a certain time,” says
he, “for this freak, and once in a year people may be allowed to be
mad. I came into the Capitol,” says Seneca, “where the several
deities had their several servants and attendants, their lictors,
their dressers, and all in posture and action, as if they were
executing their offices; some to hold the glass, others to comb out
Juno’s and Minerva’s hair; one to tell Jupiter what o’clock it
is; some lasses there are that sit gazing upon the image, and fancy
Jupiter has a kindness for them. All these things,” says Seneca, a
while after, “a wise man will observe for the law’s sake more
than for the gods; and all this rabble of deities, which the
superstition of many ages has gathered together, we are in such
manner to adore, as to consider the worship to be rather matter of
custom than of conscience.” Whereupon St. Augustine observes, that
this illustrious senator worshipped what he reproved, acted what he
disliked, and adored what he condemned.
SENECA’S LIFE AND DEATH.
It
has been an ancient custom to record the actions and the writings
of
eminent men, with all their circumstances, and it is but a right
that
we owe to the memory of our famous author. Seneca was by birth a
Spaniard of Cordova, (a Roman colony of great fame and antiquity.)
He
was of the family of Annæus, of the order of knights; and the
father, Lucius Annæus Seneca, was distinguished from the son, by
the
name of the Orator.
His mother’s name was Helvia, a woman of excellent qualities. His
father came to Rome in the time of Augustus, and his wife and
children soon followed him, our Seneca yet being in his infancy.
There were three brothers of them, and never a sister. Marcus
Annæus
Novatus, Lucius Annæus Seneca, and Lucius Annæus Mela; the first of
these changed his name for Junius Gallio, who adopted him; to him
it
was that he dedicated his treatise of Anger, whom he calls Novatus
too; and he also dedicated his discourse of a
Happy Life to his
brother Gallio. The youngest brother (Annæus Mela) was Lucan’s
father. Seneca was about twenty years of age in the
fifth year of
Tiberius, when the Jews were expelled from Rome. His father trained
him up to rhetoric,
but his genius led him rather to
philosophy; and he
applied his wit to
morality and
virtue. He was a
great hearer of the celebrated men of those times; as Attalus,
Sotion, Papirius, Fabianus, (of whom he makes often mention,) and
he
was much an admirer also of Demetrius the Cynic, whose conversation
he had afterwards in the Court, and both at home also and abroad,
for
they often travelled together. His father was not at all pleased
with
his humor of
philosophy, but
forced him upon the
law, and for a
while he practiced
pleading. After
which he would needs put him upon
public employment:
and he came first to be
quæstor, then
prætor, and some
will have it that he was chosen
consul; but this is
doubtful.Seneca
finding that he had ill offices done him at court, and that Nero’s
favor began to cool, he went directly and resolutely to Nero, with
an
offer to refund all that he had gotten, which Nero would not
receive;
but however, from that time he changed his course of life, received
few visits, shunned company, went little abroad; still pretending
to
be kept at home, either by indisposition or by his study. Being
Nero’s tutor and governor, all things were well so long as Nero
followed his counsel. His two chief favorites were Burrhus and
Seneca, who were both of them excellent in their ways: Burrhus, in
his care of military
affairs, and severity of
discipline; Seneca
for his precepts
and good advice
in the matter of
eloquence, and the
gentleness of an
honest mind;
assisting one another, in that slippery age of the prince (says
Tacitus) to invite him, by the allowance of lawful pleasures, to
the
love of virtue. Seneca had two wives; the name of the first is not
mentioned; his second was Paulina, whom he often speaks of with
great
passion. By the former he had his son Marcus.In
the first year of Claudius he was banished into Corsica, when
Julia,
the daughter of Germanicus, was accused by Messalina of adultery
and
banished too, Seneca being charged as one of the adulterers. After
a
matter of eight years or upwards in exile, he was called back, and
as
much in favor again as ever. His estate was partly patrimonial, but
the greatest part of it was the bounty of his prince. His gardens,
villas, lands, possessions, and incredible sums of money, are
agreed
upon at all hands; which drew an envy upon him. Dio reports him to
have had 250,000l.
sterling at interest in Britanny alone, which he called in all at a
sum. The Court itself could not bring him to flattery; and for his
piety, submission, and virtue, the practice of his whole life
witnesses for him. “So soon,” says he, “as the candle is taken
away, my wife, that knows my custom, lies still, without a word
speaking, and then do I recollect all that I have said or done that
day, and take myself to shrift. And why should I conceal or reserve
anything, or make any scruple of inquiring into my errors, when I
can
say to myself, Do so no more, and for this once I will forgive
thee?”
And again, what can be more pious and self-denying than this
passage,
in one of his epistles? “Believe me now, when I tell you the very
bottom of my soul: in all the difficulties and crosses of my life,
this is my consideration—since it is God’s will, I do not only
obey, but assent to it; nor do I comply out of necessity, but
inclination.”
“
Here
follows now,” says Tacitus, “the death of Seneca, to Nero’s
great satisfaction; not so much for any pregnant proof against him
that he was of Piso’s conspiracy; but Nero was resolved to do that
by the sword which he could not effect by poison. For it is
reported,
that Nero had corrupted Cleonicus (a freeman of Seneca’s) to give
his master poison, which did not succeed. Whether that the servant
had discovered it to his master, or that Seneca, by his own caution
and jealousy, had avoided it; for he lived only upon a simple diet,
as the fruits of the earth, and his drink was most commonly river
water.
“
Natalis,
it seems, was sent upon a visit to him (being indisposed) with a
complaint that he would not let Piso come at him; and advising him
to
the continuance of their friendship and acquaintance as formerly.
To
whom Seneca made answer, that frequent meetings and conferences
betwixt them could do neither of them any good; but that he had a
great interest in Piso’s welfare. Hereupon Granius Silvanus (a
captain of the guard) was sent to examine Seneca upon the discourse
that passed betwixt him and Natalis, and to return his answer.
Seneca, either by chance or upon purpose, came that day from
Campania, to a villa of his own, within four miles of the city; and
thither the officer went the next evening, and beset the place. He
found Seneca at supper with his wife Paulina, and two of his
friends;
and gave him immediately an account of his commission. Seneca told
him, that it was true that Natalis had been with him in Piso’s
name, with a complaint
that Piso could not be admitted to see him;
and that he excused himself by reason of his want of health, and
his
desires to be quiet and private; and that he had no reason to
prefer
another man’s welfare before his own. Cæsar himself, he said, knew
very well that he was not a man of compliment, having received more
proofs of his freedom than of his flattery. This answer of Seneca’s
was delivered to Cæsar in the presence of Poppæa, and Tigellinus,
the intimate confidants of this barbarous prince: and Nero asked
him
whether he could gather anything from Seneca as if he intended to
make himself away? The tribune’s answer was, that he did not find
him one jot moved with the message: but that he went on roundly
with
his tale, and never so much as changed countenance for the matter.
Go
back to him then, says Nero, and tell him,
that he is condemned to die.
Fabius Rusticus delivers it, that the tribune did not return the
same
way he came, but went aside to Fenius (a captain of that name) and
told him Cæsar’s orders, asking his advice whether he should obey
them or not; who bade him by all means to do as he was ordered.
Which
want of resolution was fatal to them all; for Silvanus also, that
was
one of the conspirators, assisted now to serve and to increase
those
crimes, which he had before complotted to revenge. And yet he did
not
think fit to appear himself in the business, but sent a centurion
to
Seneca to tell him his doom.
“
Seneca,
without any surprise or disorder, calls for his will; which being
refused him by the officer, he turned to his friends, and told them
that since he was not permitted to requite them as they deserved,
he
was yet at liberty to bequeath them the thing of all others that he
esteemed the most, that is, the image of his life; which should
give
them the reputation both of
constancy and
friendship, if they
would but imitate it; exhorting them to a firmness of mind,
sometimes
by good counsel, otherwhile by reprehension, as the occasion
required. Where, says he, is all your philosophy now? all
your
premeditated resolutions
against the violences of Fortune? Is there any man so ignorant of
Nero’s cruelty, as to expect, after the murder of his mother and
his brother, that he should ever spare the life of his governor and
tutor? After some general expressions to this purpose, he took his
wife in his arms, and having somewhat fortified her against the
present calamity, he besought and conjured her to moderate her
sorrows, and betake herself to the contemplations and comforts of a
virtuous life; which would be a fair and ample consolation to her
for
the loss of her husband. Paulina, on the other side, tells him her
determination to bear him company, and wills the executioner to do
his office. Well, says Seneca, if after the sweetness of life, as I
have represented it to thee, thou hadst rather entertain an
honorable
death, I shall not envy thy example; consulting, at the same time,
the fame of the person he loved, and his own tenderness, for fear
of
the injuries that might attend her when he was gone. Our
resolution,
says he, in this generous act, may be equal, but thine will be the
greater reputation. After this the veins of both their arms were
opened at the same time. Seneca did not bleed so freely, his
spirits
being wasted with age and a thin diet; so that he was forced to cut
the veins of his thighs and elsewhere, to hasten his dispatch. When
he was far spent, and almost sinking under his torments, he desired
his wife to remove into another chamber, lest the agonies of the
one
might work upon the courage of the other. His eloquence continued
to
the last, as appears by the excellent things he delivered at his
death; which being taken in writing from his own mouth, and
published
in his own words, I shall not presume to deliver them in any other.
Nero, in the meantime, who had no particular spite to Paulina, gave
orders to prevent her death, for fear his cruelty should grow more
and more insupportable and odious. Whereupon the soldiers gave all
freedom and encouragement to her servants to bind up her wounds,
and
stop the blood, which they did accordingly; but whether she was
sensible of it or not is a question. For among the common people,
who
are apt to judge the worst, there were some of opinion, that as
long
as she despaired of Nero’s mercy, she seemed to court the glory of
dying with her husband for company; but that upon the likelihood of
better quarter she was prevailed upon to outlive him; and so for
some
years she did survive him, with all piety and respect to his
memory;
but so miserably pale and wan, that everybody might read the loss
of
her blood and spirits in her very countenance.
“
Seneca
finding his death slow and lingering, desires Statius Annæus (his
old friend and physician) to give him a dose of poison, which he
had
provided beforehand, being the same preparation which was appointed
for capital offenders in Athens. This was brought him, and he drank
it up, but to little purpose; for his body was already chilled, and
bound up against the force of it. He went at last into a hot bath,
and sprinkling some of his servants that were next him, this, says
he, is an oblation to Jupiter
the deliverer. The
fume of the bath soon dispatched him, and his body was burnt,
without
any funeral solemnity, as he had directed in his testament: though
this will of his was made in the height of his prosperity and
power.
There was a rumor that Subrius Flavius, in a private consultation
with the centurions, had taken up this following resolution, (and
that Seneca himself was no stranger to it) that is to say, that
after
Nero should have been slain by the help of Piso, Piso himself
should
have been killed too; and the empire delivered up to Seneca, as one
that well deserved it, for his integrity and virtue.”
SENECA OF BENEFITS.
CHAPTER I.OF BENEFITS IN GENERAL.
It
is, perhaps, one of the most pernicious errors of a rash and
inconsiderate life, the common ignorance of the world in the matter
of exchanging
benefits. And this
arises from a mistake, partly in the person that we would oblige,
and
partly in the thing itself. To begin with the latter: “A benefit is
a good office, done with intention and judgment;” that is to say,
with a due regard to all the circumstances of
what,
how,
why,
when,
where,
to whom,
how much, and the
like; or otherwise: “It is a voluntary and benevolent action that
delights the giver in the comfort it brings to the receiver.” It
will be hard to draw this subject, either into method or compass:
the
one, because of the infinite variety and complication of cases; the
other, by reason of the large extent of it: for the whole business
(almost) of mankind in society falls under this head; the duties of
kings and subjects, husbands and wives, parents and children,
masters
and servants, natives and strangers, high and low, rich and poor,
strong and weak, friends and enemies. The very meditation of it
breeds good blood and generous thoughts; and instructs us in honor,
humanity, friendship, piety, gratitude, prudence, and justice. In
short, the art and skill of conferring benefits is, of all human
duties, the most absolutely necessary to the well-being, both of
reasonable nature, and of every individual; as the very cement of
all
communities, and the blessing of particulars. He that does good to
another man does good also to himself; not only in the consequence,
but in the very act of doing it; for the conscience of well-doing
is
an ample reward.Of
benefits in general, there are several sorts; as
necessary,
profitable, and
delightful. Some
things there are, without which we
cannot live; others
without which we
ought not to live;
and some, again, without which we
will not live. In
the first rank are those which deliver us from capital dangers, or
apprehensions of death: and the favor is rated according to the
hazard; for the greater the extremity, the greater seems the
obligation. The next is a case wherein we may indeed live, but we
had
better die; as in the question of liberty, modesty, and a good
conscience. In the third place, follow those things which custom,
use, affinity, and acquaintance, have made dear to us; as husbands,
wives, children, friends, etc., which an honest man will preserve
at
his utmost peril. Of things profitable there is a large field, as
money, honor, etc., to which might be added, matters of superfluity
and pleasure. But we shall open a way to the circumstances of a
benefit by some previous and more general deliberations upon the
thing itself.
CHAPTER II.SEVERAL SORTS OF BENEFITS.
We
shall divide
benefits into
absolute and
vulgar; the one
appertaining to good life, the other is only matter of commerce.
The
former are the more excellent, because they can never be made void;
whereas all material benefits are tossed back and forward, and
change
their master. There are some offices that look like benefits, but
are
only desirable conveniences, as wealth, etc., and these a wicked
man
may receive from a good, or a good man from an evil. Others, again,
that bear the face of injuries, which are only benefits ill taken;
as
cutting, lancing, burning, under the hand of a surgeon. The
greatest
benefits of all are those of good education, which we receive from
our parents, either in the state of ignorance or perverseness; as,
their care and tenderness in our infancy; their discipline in our
childhood, to keep us to our duties by fear; and, if fair means
will
not do, their proceeding afterwards to severity and punishment,
without which we should never have come to good. There are matters
of
great value, many times, that are but of small price; as
instructions
from a tutor, medicine from a physician, etc. And there are small
matters again, which are of great consideration to us: the gift is
small, and the consequence great; as a cup of cold water in a time
of
need may save a man’s life. Some things are of great moment to the
giver, others to the receiver: one man gives me a house; another
snatches me out when it is falling upon my head; one gives me an
estate; another takes me out of the fire, or casts me out a rope
when
I am sinking. Some good offices we do to friends, others to
strangers; but those are the noblest that we do without pre-desert.
There is an obligation of bounty, and an obligation of charity;
this
in case of necessity, and that in point of convenience. Some
benefits
are common, others are personal; as if a prince (out of pure grace)
grant a privilege to a city, the obligation lies upon the
community,
and only upon every individual as a part of the whole; but if it be
done particularly for my sake, then am I singly the debtor for it.
The cherishing of strangers is one of the duties of hospitality,
and
exercises itself in the relief and protection of the distressed.
There are benefits of good counsel, reputation, life, fortune,
liberty, health, nay, and of superfluity and pleasure. One man
obliges me out of his pocket; another gives me matter of ornament
and
curiosity; a third, consolation. To say nothing of negative
benefits;
for there are that reckon it an obligation if they do a body no
hurt;
and place it to account, as if they saved a man, when they do not
undo him. To shut up all in one word; as benevolence is the most
sociable of all virtues, so it is of the largest extent; for there
is
not any man, either so great or so little, but he is yet capable of
giving and of receiving benefits.
CHAPTER III.A SON MAY OBLIGE HIS FATHER, AND A SERVANT HIS MASTER.
The
question is (in the first place) whether it may not be possible for
a
father to owe more to a son, in other respects, than the son owes
to
his father for his being? That many sons are both greater and
better
than their fathers, there is no question; as there are many other
things that derive their beings from others, which yet are far
greater than their original. Is not the tree larger than the seed?
the river than the fountain? The foundation of all things lies hid,
and the superstructure obscures it. If I owe all to my father,
because he gives me life, I may owe as much to a physician that
saved
his life; for if my father had not been cured, I had never been
begotten: or, if I stand indebted for all that I am to my
beginning,
my acknowledgment must run back to the very original of all human
beings. My father gave me the benefit of life: which he had never
done, if his father had not first given it to him. He gave me life,
not knowing to whom; and when I was in a condition neither to feel
death nor to fear it. That is the great benefit, to give life to
one
that knows how to use it, and that is capable of the apprehension
of
death. It is true, that without a father I could never have had a
being; and so, without a nurse, that being had never been improved:
but I do not therefore owe my virtue either to my nativity or to
her
that gave me suck. The generation of me was the last part of the
benefit: for to live is common with brutes; but to live well is the
main business; and that virtue is all my own, saving what I drew
from
my education. It does not follow that the
first benefit must
be the greatest,
because without the first the greatest could never have been. The
father gives life to the son but once; but if the son save the
father’s life often, though he do but his duty, it is yet a greater
benefit. And again, the benefit that a man receives is the greater,
the more he needs it; but the living has more need of life than he
that is not yet born; so that the father receives a greater benefit
in the continuance of his life than the son in the beginning of it.
What if a son deliver his father from the rack; or, which is more,
lay himself down in his place? The giving of him a being was but
the
office of a father; a simple act, a benefit given at a venture:
beside that, he had a participant in it, and a regard to his
family.
He gave only a single life, and he received a happy one. My mother
brought me into the world naked, exposed, and void of reason; but
my
reputation and my fortune are advanced by my virtue. Scipio (as yet
in his minority) rescued his father in a battle with Hannibal, and
afterward from the practices and persecution of a powerful faction;
covering him with consulary honors, and the spoils of public
enemies.
He made himself as eminent for his moderation as for his piety and
military knowledge: he was the defender and the establisher of his
country: he left the empire without a competitor, and made himself
as
well the ornament of Rome as the security of it: and did not
Scipio,
in all this, more than requite his father barely for begetting of
him? Whether did Anchises more for Æneas, in dandling the child in
his arms; or Æneas for his father, when he carried him upon his
back
through the flames of Troy, and made his name famous to future ages
among the founders of the Roman Empire? T. Manlius was the son of a
sour and imperious father, who banished him his house as a
blockhead,
and a scandal to the family. This Manlius, hearing that his
father’s
life was in question, and a day set for his trial, went to the
tribune that was concerned in his cause, and discoursed with him
about it: the tribune told him the appointed time, and withal (as
an
obligation upon the young man) that his cruelty to his son would be
part of his accusation. Manlius, upon this, takes the tribune
aside,
and presenting a poniard to his breast, “Swear,” says he, “that
you will let this cause fall, or you shall have this dagger in the
heart of you; and now it is at your choice which way you will
deliver
my father.” The tribune swore and kept his word, and made a fair
report of the whole matter to the council. He that makes himself
famous by his eloquence, justice, or arms, illustrates his
extraction, let it be never so mean; and gives inestimable
reputation
to his parents. We should never have heard of Sophroniscus, but for
his son Socrates; nor for Aristo and Gryllus, if it had not been
for
Xenophon and Plato.
This
is not to discountenance the veneration we owe to parents; nor to
make children the worse, but the better; and to stir up generous
emulations: for, in contests of good offices, both parties are
happy;
as well the vanquished as those that overcome. It is the only
honorable dispute that can arise betwixt a father and son, which of
the two shall have the better of the other in the point of
benefits.
In
the question betwixt a master and a servant, we must distinguish
betwixt benefits, duties, and actions ministerial. By
benefits, we
understand those good offices that we receive from strangers, which
are voluntary, and may be forborne without blame.
Duties are the
parts of a son and wife, and incumbent upon kindred and
relations.
Offices ministerial
belong to the part of a servant. Now, since it is the
mind, and not the
condition of a
person, that prints the value upon the benefit, a servant may
oblige
his master, and so may a subject his sovereign, or a common soldier
his general, by doing more than he is expressly bound to do. Some
things there are, which the law neither commands nor forbids; and
here the servant is free. It would be very hard for a servant to be
chastised for doing less than his duty, and not thanked for it when
he does more. His body, it is true, is his master’s, but his mind
is his own: and there are many commands which a servant ought no
more
to obey than a master to impose. There is no man so great, but he
may
both need the help and service, and stand in fear of the power and
unkindness, even of the meanest of mortals. One servant kills his
master; another saves him, nay, preserves his master’s life,
perhaps, with the loss of his own: he exposes himself to torment
and
death; he stands firm against all threats and batteries: which is
not
only a benefit in a servant, but much the greater for his being
so.
When
Domitius was besieged in Corfinium, and the place brought to great
extremity, he pressed his servant so earnestly to poison him, that
at
last he was prevailed upon to give him a potion; which, it seems,
was
an innocent opiate, and Domitius outlived it: Cæsar took the town,
and gave Domitius his life, but it was his servant that gave it him
first.
There
was another town besieged, and when it was upon the last pinch, two
servants made their escape, and went over to the enemy: upon the
Romans entering the town, and in the heat of the soldiers’ fury,
these two fellows ran directly home, took their mistress out of her
house, and drove her before them, telling every body how
barbarously
she had used them formerly, and that they would now have their
revenge; when they had her without the gates, they kept her close
till the danger was over; by which means they gave their mistress
her
life, and she gave them their freedom. This was not the action of a
servile mind, to do so glorious a thing, under an appearance of so
great a villainy; for if they had not passed for deserters and
parricides, they could not have gained their end.
With
one instance more (and that a very brave one) I shall conclude this
chapter.
In
the civil wars of Rome, a party coming to search for a person of
quality that was proscribed, a servant put on his master’s clothes,
and delivered himself up to the soldiers as the master of the
house;
he was taken into custody, and put to death, without discovering
the
mistake. What could be more glorious, than for a servant to die for
his master, in that age, when there were not many servants that
would
not betray their masters? So generous a tenderness in a public
cruelty; so invincible a faith in a general corruption; what could
be
more glorious, I say, than so exalted a virtue, as rather to choose
death for the reward of his fidelity, than the greatest advantages
he
might otherwise have had for the violation of it?
CHAPTER IV.IT IS THE INTENTION, NOT THE MATTER, THAT MAKES THE BENEFIT.
The
good-will of the
benefactor is the fountain of all benefits; nay it is the benefit
itself, or, at least, the stamp that makes it valuable and current.
Some there are, I know, that take the matter for the benefit, and
tax
the obligation by weight and measure. When anything is given them,
they presently cast it up; “What may such a house be worth? such an
office? such an estate?” as if that were the benefit which is only
the sign and mark of it: for the obligation rests in the mind, not
in
the matter; and all those advantages which we see, handle, or hold
in
actual possession by the courtesy of another, are but several modes
or ways of explaining and putting the good-will in execution. There
needs no great subtlety to prove, that both benefits and injuries
receive their value from the intention, when even brutes themselves
are able to decide this question. Tread upon a dog by chance, or
put
him to pain upon the dressing of a wound; the one he passes by as
an
accident; and the other, in his fashion, he acknowledges as a
kindness: but, offer to strike at him, though you do him no hurt at
all, he flies yet in the face of you, even for the mischief that
you
barely meant him.
It
is further to be observed, that all benefits are good; and (like
the
distributions of Providence) made up of wisdom and bounty; whereas
the gift itself is neither good nor bad, but may indifferently be
applied, either to the one or to the other. The benefit is
immortal,
the gift perishable: for the benefit itself continues when we have
no
longer either the use or the matter of it. He that is dead was
alive;
he that has lost his eyes, did see; and, whatsoever is done, cannot
be rendered undone. My friend (for instance) is taken by pirates; I
redeem him; and after that he falls into other pirates’ hands; his
obligation to me is the same still as if he had preserved his
freedom. And so, if I save a man from any misfortune, and he falls
into another; if I give him a sum of money, which is afterwards
taken
away by thieves; it comes to the same case. Fortune may deprive us
of
the matter of a benefit, but the benefit itself remains inviolable.
If the benefit resided in the matter, that which is good for one
man
would be so for another; whereas many times the very same thing,
given to several persons, work contrary effects, even to the
difference of life or death; and that which is one body’s cure
proves another body’s poison. Beside that, the timing of it alters
the value; and a crust of bread, upon a pinch, is a greater present
than an imperial crown. What is more familiar than in a battle to
shoot at an enemy and kill a friend? or, instead of a friend, to
save
an enemy? But yet this disappointment, in the event, does not at
all
operate upon the intention. What if a man cures me of a wen with a
stroke that was designed to cut off my head? or, with a malicious
blow upon my stomach, breaks an imposthume? or, what if he saves my
life with a draught that was prepared to poison me? The providence
of
the issue does not at all discharge the obliquity of the intent.
And
the same reason holds good even in religion itself. It is not the
incense, or the offering, that is acceptable to God, but the purity
and devotion of the worshipper: neither is the bare will, without
action, sufficient, that is, where we have the means of acting;
for,
in that case, it signifies as little to
wish well, without
well-doing, as to
do good without
willing it. There
must be effect as well as intention, to make me owe a benefit; but,
to will against it, does wholly discharge it. In fine, the
conscience
alone is the judge, both of benefits and injuries.
It
does not follow now, because the benefit rests in the good-will,
that
therefore the good-will should be always a benefit; for if it be
not
accompanied with government and discretion, those offices, which we
call benefits,
are but the works of passion, or of chance; and many times, the
greatest of all injuries. One man does me good by mistake; another
ignorantly; a third upon force: but none of these cases do I take
to
be an obligation; for they were neither directed to me, nor was
there
any kindness of intention; we do not thank the seas for the
advantages we receive by navigation; or the rivers with supplying
us
with fish and flowing of our grounds; we do not thank the trees
either for their fruits or shades, or the winds for a fair gale;
and
what is the difference betwixt a reasonable creature that does not
know and an inanimate that cannot? A good
horse saves one
man’s life; a good suit of
arms another’s;
and a man,
perhaps, that never intended it, saves a third. Where is the
difference now betwixt the obligation of one and of the other? A
man
falls into a river, and the fright cures him of the ague; we may
call
this a kind of lucky mischance, but not a remedy. And so it is with
the good we receive, either without, or beside, or contrary to
intention. It is the mind, and not the event, that distinguishes a
benefit from an injury.
CHAPTER V.THERE MUST BE JUDGMENT IN A BENEFIT, AS WELL AS MATTER AND INTENTION; AND ESPECIALLY IN THE CHOICE OF THE PERSON.
As
it is the will
that designs the benefit, and the
matter that conveys
it, so it is the
judgment that
perfects it; which depends upon so many critical niceties, that the
least error, either in the person, the matter, the manner, the
quality, the quantity, the time, or the place, spoils all.
The
consideration of the
person is a main
point: for we are to give by choice, and not by hazard. My
inclination bids me oblige one man; I am bound in duty and justice
to
serve another; here it is a charity, there it is pity; and
elsewhere,
perhaps, encouragement. There are some that want, to whom I would
not
give; because, if I did, they would want still. To one man I would
barely offer a benefit; but I would press it upon another. To say
the
truth, we do not employ any more profit than that which we bestow;
and it is not to our friends, our acquaintances or countrymen, nor
to
this or that condition of men, that we are to restrain our
bounties;
but wheresoever there is a man, there is a place and occasion for a
benefit. We give to some that are good already; to others, in hope
to
make them so: but we must do all with discretion; for we are as
well
answerable for what we give as for what we receive; nay, the
misplacing of a benefit is worse than the not receiving of it; for
the one is another man’s fault; but the other is mine. The error of
the giver does oft-times excuse the ingratitude of the receiver:
for
a favor ill-placed is rather a profusion than a benefit. It is the
most shameful of losses, an inconsiderate bounty. I will choose a
man
of integrity, sincere, considerate, grateful, temperate,
well-natured, neither covetous nor sordid: and when I have obliged
such a man, though not worth a groat in the world, I have gained my
end. If we give only to receive, we lose the fairest objects of our
charity: the absent, the sick, the captive, and the needy. When we
oblige those that can never pay us again in kind, as a stranger
upon
his last farewell, or a necessitous person upon his death-bed, we
make Providence our debtor, and rejoice in the conscience even of a
fruitless benefit. So long as we are affected with passions, and
distracted with hopes and fears, and (the most unmanly of vices)
with
our pleasures, we are incompetent judges where to place our
bounties:
but when death presents itself, and that we come to our last will
and
testament, we leave our fortunes to the most worthy. He that gives
nothing, but in hopes of receiving, must die intestate. It is the
honesty of another man’s mind that moves the kindness of mine; and
I would sooner oblige a grateful man than an ungrateful: but this
shall not hinder me from doing good also to a person that is known
to
be ungrateful: only with this difference, that I will serve the one
in all extremities with my life and fortune, and the other no
farther
than stands with my convenience. But what shall I do, you will say,
to know whether a man will be grateful or not? I will follow
probability, and hope the best. He that sows is not sure to reap;
nor
the seaman to reach his port; nor the soldier to win the field: he
that weds is not sure his wife shall be honest, or his children
dutiful: but shall we therefore neither sow, sail, bear arms, nor
marry? Nay, if I knew a man to be incurably thankless, I would yet
be
so kind as to put him in his way, or let him light a candle at
mine,
or draw water at my well; which may stand him perhaps in great
stead,
and yet not be reckoned as a benefit from me; for I do it
carelessly,
and not for his sake, but my own; as an office of humanity, without
any choice or kindness.
CHAPTER VI.THE MATTER OF OBLIGATIONS, WITH ITS CIRCUMSTANCES.
Next
to the choice of the
person follows that
of the matter;
wherein a regard must be had to time, place, proportion, quality;
and
to the very nicks of opportunity and humor. One man values his
peace
above his honor, another his honor above his safety; and not a few
there are that (provided they may save their bodies) never care
what
becomes of their souls. So that good offices depend much upon
construction. Some take themselves to be obliged, when they are
not;
others will not believe it, when they are; and some again take
obligations and injuries, the one for the other.
For
our better direction, let it be noted, “That a benefit is a common
tie betwixt the giver and receiver, with respect to both:”
wherefore it must be accommodated to the rules of discretion; for
all
things have their bounds and measures, and so must liberality among
the rest; that it be neither too much for the one nor too little
for
the other; the excess being every jot as bad as the defect.
Alexander
bestowed a city upon one of his favorites; who modestly excusing
himself, “That it was too much for him to receive.” “Well,
but,” says Alexander, “it is not too much for me to give.” A
haughty certainly, and an imprudent speech; for that which was not
fit for the one to take could not be fit for the other to give. It
passes in the world for greatness of mind to be perpetually giving
and loading of people with bounties; but it is one thing to know
how
to give,
and another thing not to know how to
keep. Give me a
heart that is easy and open, but I will have no holes in it; let it
be bountiful with judgment, but I will have nothing run out of it I
know not how. How much greater was he that refused the city than
the
other that offered it? Some men throw away their money as if they
were angry with it, which is the error commonly of weak minds and
large fortunes. No man esteems of anything that comes to him by
chance; but when it is governed by reason, it brings credit both to
the giver and receiver; whereas those favors are, in some sort,
scandalous, that make a man ashamed of his patron.